With Conviction
by madeleine68
Summary: Conviction, noun. 1. The act of being found guilty in a criminal proceeding. 2. A fixed or strong belief. Alex loves Olivia with more conviction than she's ever loved anyone in her life. A/O oneshot. Please review!


**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Dick Wolf. *sigh* You know, that evil guy who won't let Alex and Olivia be together?**

**This takes place during **_**Conviction**_**, during the pilot episode, after Mike Randolph's funeral. But don't worry; you don't need an extensive knowledge of **_**Conviction **_**to read this, because it's more **_**Law and Order: Special Victims Unit **_**centered. I'll leave it up to you whether or not **_**Ghost **_**happened. And as with almost everything else, this is A/O. Enjoy!**

Alex wonders if this was what happened at her own funeral. Standing before a flower-covered coffin, surrounded by a group of somber police officers and ADAs, she thinks that it must have been like this. Mike Randolph was a good guy. He did a lot of good things for a lot of people, and he died doing a lot of good things for a lot of people.

She wishes she could say the same of herself.

She got shot because she was too stubborn to do as she was told. Back then, she always thought she knew best, and she felt she had to stick with all of her decisions even after she realized they were wrong. She had to stay strong – constantly. And that had been her downfall.

What of Olivia, she wonders? She hasn't seen the detective since she was released from Witness Protection, nearly a year ago. Did Olivia stand there as she is now, staring straight ahead, trying as hard as she can to stay strong? Or did she briefly abandon her strong façade? Did she rest her head on Elliot's shoulder and finally allow herself to cry? Alex has only ever seen Olivia cry once before, and that was when she told the detective that she was still alive. Olivia had been trying to stay strong, but she couldn't quite manage it.

She scans the crowd, searching in the sea of blue for her detective. But Olivia's not there, and Alex knew she wouldn't be. She doesn't even fool herself, and she's certainly not fooling anybody else.

If Jim wasn't too absorbed in his own self-pity, he would have taken a moment to notice how hard this was hitting her. He would have taken a moment to make sure she was alright, just as her old colleagues would have. They're friends – okay, friends with benefits. But Olivia will always rule her heart.

And Alex is like Olivia in that way. She has her own stony façade and she feels the need to put up walls between herself and everyone else so they don't get close enough to hurt her. She learned her lesson with Olivia. If she hadn't given Olivia her heart, maybe leaving her – and having Olivia see her so vulnerable – wouldn't hurt so much.

She gets home from work emotionally drained, but she knows what she has to do. She's realized – again – how short life is and how easily it can be stolen away. She kicks off her heels, grimacing, wondering idly what her colleagues would think if they knew that their stringent, unrelenting bureau chief changes into sweats when she gets home from work and detests the rigid heels she wears daily.

Alex takes a deep breath, bracing herself as she dials the number that her fingers have memorized from long ago. And when the voice answers on the third ring, Alex almost drops the phone. She's dreamed of this voice for years.

She's hesitated too long, because the voice repeats, "Benson."

Alex blinks back the tears that rush to her eyes at that. It's one simple word, but it means so much to her now. She's missed that voice so much. "Liv," she whispers, so softly that she's not sure if Olivia hears her. "Olivia . . . it's me."

There's a pregnant silence that follows and Alex's breath hitches. She can't see Olivia's face, so she doesn't know what's going through the detective's head right now. This is what she's come to.

But then Olivia says, "Alex," matching her quiet tone, and that makes everything okay.

It's clear that Olivia is feeling just as awkward as Alex is, and she's not making any attempt to move the conversation along. Alex clears her throat, trying to think of just the right thing to say. Finally, she gives up and settles with a, "I know I haven't called, and I'm sorry, but I've been out of Witness Protection for almost a year."

"I know," says Olivia sharply, and Alex's heart skips a beat. Is Olivia angry? She has a right to be, and Alex knows it, but she doesn't know what to say to that. How is it that Olivia can always leave her speechless? She's the only one who's ever been able to reduce the formidable Alex Cabot to a bundle of nerves.

"Um, well, I . . ." Oh, God, she's stuttering. _Pull yourself together, Cabot_, she chastises herself, running a hand through her silky blonde tresses. _Stop sounding like a teenager with a crush. Pretend you're not talking to the woman you love, the woman who you'd do anything for, the woman for whom you'd crawl through hell and back._ She tries again. "I miss you." Crap. She sounds _needy_. Alex Cabot is _never _needy.

But apparently it doesn't sound as bad to Olivia as it did in her head, because she says softly, "I miss you, too." Then she seems to get a hold of herself, because in a much stronger, firmer voice, she adds, "Why are you calling?"

What can she say to that? "Because I miss you." Wow, of all the stupid, ineloquent comments she's ever made, this one definitely takes the cake. Olivia is the only one who can do this to her. Every time.

"I know that, but what brought it on?"

All Alex can read in Olivia's voice is curiosity, maybe even . . . _amusement_? _What the hell, Olivia?_ she thinks to herself. "I realized I was wrong, about not calling. Life is short, you know?" She decides to be honest, taking a deep breath before continuing, "Mike Randolph's dead. He was a friend of mine and I just kept thinking, I could be next. I almost was. And I know I would regret it forever if I gave this up."

"There's more to it," says Olivia mildly, and Alex cringes. How is it that, even after all this time, the detective knows her so well?

Alex sighs and admits, "This one's been tough for me and no one else _gets _it. And I know you would understand. You're the only one who ever has."

She can tell even though she can't see her that Olivia's nodding, accepting this as the truth, and it is. "Why didn't you call before?"

It comes out more accusatory than questioning, and Alex thinks she probably deserves it. "I was ashamed," she confesses, clearing her throat as her voice breaks. She has to be strong. She _has _to be strong. She can't be anything _but _strong. "You saw me get shot."

"So what's changed?"

She understands that Olivia isn't ready for everything to return to normal right away, and she would agree with that if she wasn't feeling so vulnerable tonight. Olivia always knew how to pry information from her. "I didn't want to let that stand in our way. It shouldn't." _I love you still_, she doesn't say, nor does she ask the more pressing question that's on the tip of her tongue: _Do you still love me?_

"I agree," says Olivia, still playing hard to get. That's what she's good, after all.

If Alex had a bit more energy, she would play along, but she's serious about rekindling their relationship, and she's tired of doing this. "I'm sorry, Olivia. Can you forgive me?"

"Wow. I'm impressed," comments Olivia dryly. "Are you actually _apologizing_?"

Alex tries to smile, although she knows the detective can't see her. "That's how much it means to me." She understands that cracking jokes is Olivia's defense mechanism, so she tries not to take it personally, but it's tough. She wants this so badly that it hurts.

"So what is it that you want?"

God, Olivia sounds so _formal_. And she's going to make Alex practically beg for this. Is she just playing around or doesn't she care? "I was wondering if we could get together." She hesitates, trying not to sound too needy. "Are you upset with me?"

"No, honey," replies Olivia, her voice cracking with emotion, and Alex can tell she's blinking back tears. She swipes at the moisture in her own eyes, wishing the detective didn't affect her like this. "I'm not upset. I wondered why you didn't call, that's all."

"I understand," whispers Alex. "I apologize." The apology is stiff and formal, but the emotion is there, and she hopes Olivia hears it.

"Right." Olivia clears her throat. "Um, so how about dinner?"

Alex's heart skips a beat. "Tonight?"

"Yeah." Olivia sounds uncertain, and it takes Alex a moment to recognize that. Uncertainty is so rare on the confident detective, and it almost makes Alex smile. "Is that okay with you?"

"Yes," replies Alex, perhaps a little too quickly. She's more than okay with it.

"My place. We'll order Chinese, rent a movie . . . is that orange chicken crap still your favorite?"

Alex can't help but laugh. "It's not _crap_, and yes, it is."

"Great. I'll see you in an hour."

Alex takes a deep breath as she hangs up. She tries to decide what to wear. She wants to look just right . . . but this is _Olivia_. Appearances are, to put it mildly, irrelevant to Olivia. The detective thinks Alex looks gorgeous in anything, or better yet, in nothing. And she's so unaware of her own intoxicating beauty that Alex sometimes has to stop and marvel. Sometimes she just watches Olivia, as she's getting out of the bath, as she climbs into bed at night, as she marches out of an interrogation room with her head held high.

She can't wait to see the detective again.

She finally decides on a pair of skinny jeans and a long-sleeved blue shirt. Casual, but she hopes she looks good anyway. How is it that Olivia can make her feel so good about herself and yet so insecure at the same time?

She drives down to Olivia's apartment, parks the car, and hesitates for just a moment before letting her feet travel the instinctive path she remembers so well, up to the third floor, apartment 306. She knocks on the door and Olivia opens it right away, without even asking who it is. And the sight of her beautiful detective takes her breath away.

She subconsciously reaches out to rest her hand on Olivia's arm, even though she's usually not the one to initiate physical contact. God, this feels so good. "Liv," she murmurs, unable to push anything more past her lips.

Olivia's staring too, standing paralyzed for a moment, but she recovers quickly. "Are we just going to stand in the doorway or do you want to come in?"

Suddenly, Alex wants to throw her arms around the detective and never let her go, but she refrains. She knows better than that. She follows Olivia into the living room and perches on the couch, crossing one leg primly over the other.

Olivia shakes her head in amusement. "Alex, this is _me_."

Alex smiles sheepishly. "Right." She straightens her back and crosses her legs like she's a child again, sitting on the carpet of her kindergarten classroom while the teacher reads them a story.

"Ah, the yoga posture," says Olivia dryly. "Relax."

Alex blushes, then blushes harder when she realizes that she's blushing. This is _not _cool. Alex Cabot _never_ blushes! She clears her throat, trying to redeem herself. "I saw you on the news the other day." Wow. That is just . . . wow. What's _happened _to her? But then she remembers – when she's with Olivia, her usually extensive vocabulary vanishes. Her whose best relationship has always been with words, and she realizes that she can either transfer that title to Olivia or keep it as it is, but she can't have both. And she's chosen Olivia. She tries again. "Is Casey a good lawyer?"

Olivia shrugs. "Competent, but nothing on you. She tries too hard."

Alex laughs at her candor. "It's nice to know that I'm missed."

Olivia takes her hand, more out of instinct than anything, but the contact isn't unwelcome. "You are."

The touch sends waves of electricity rippling through Alex's body and pooling in one uncomfortable place. God, why can Olivia do this to her? All it takes is one touch, one fleeting glance, and she's gone. Pliable as clay in Olivia's hands.

"So you're bureau chief now?" Olivia's trying unsuccessfully to make small talk, but Alex doesn't want to talk about her work. She wants to talk about Olivia. She wants to soak in all the details of Olivia's life that she's missed out on.

"Yes," replies Alex dismissively, trying to figure out how to word this. Finally she gives up. "Olivia?"

"Yeah?"

Alex leans forward. "Kiss me."

Olivia grins like a cat before complying. "I thought you'd never ask."

**So was this oneshot good? Review if you liked it!**


End file.
